


cupcakes feat. pynch

by totalsafety



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Fluff, M/M, music and dancing and happiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-04-14 10:40:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4561446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totalsafety/pseuds/totalsafety
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Noah wants Ronan to make cupcakes for Blue's birthday. There's music and surprisingly good dancing and blushing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	cupcakes feat. pynch

Ronan starts making a mental list of things to pick up at the grocery store while sprinting to the BMW outside of Monmouth. Shivering in his leather jacket, he watches Adam’s car slide into a parking space two spots down. Ronan keeps the engine on so his car can warm up, but gets out and jogs over to Adam. 

“What, afraid I’m going to key the shitbox if you park too close?” 

Adam locks his car and ignores Ronan’s feral grin.

“Hold on, hold on.” Ronan grabs Adam’s arm, making him stop. Adam lets out the most dramatic sigh Ronan’s ever heard, directed at the brick wall instead of the boy next to him. It’d be comical if it wasn’t so saturated with true exhaustion. Ronan moves into Adam’s line of sight and deadpans. 

“Do you want to make cupcakes with me?”

Adam whips his head to look at Ronan, and Ronan barks a note resembling laughter. He steers Adam towards the BMW. Maybe it’s the tiredness, or the numbness, or the stress, but Adam is unresisting as Ronan opens the passenger door and shoves him in. After buckling his seat belt, Adam rests his head on the window, already warm and half-asleep before Ronan can shift to first.

* * *

“Parrish, wake up.”

Adam blinks, rubbing his fist in both eyes. He slowly climbs out of the car, realizing they’re at the Barns. 

“You were serious about the cupcakes?” 

“You were serious about the cupcakes?” Ronan mimes, walking backwards towards the house. 

A heavy plastic bag hits Adam’s chest. He looks inside and finds the answer to his question. 

Ronan flicks on most of the hallway lights, stopping to adjust a dream thermostat on his way to the kitchen. Adam watches him empty the grocery bags on the kitchen counter: mixing bowls, cake mix, icing, cupcake pans, things so foreign to Adam’s version of Ronan that it was easy to remember how little he really knew. 

Ronan finishes unpacking and shrugs off his leather jacket. Adam jumps into action, realizing he’s supposed to be helping. He unpacks his solitary bag too, but keeps his sweater on. 

“Crack some eggs, Parrish. Leave the yolk out.” 

Adam obliges, tapping the eggs softly on the counter before carefully opening them into a mixing bowl. Meanwhile, Ronan rummages around in the adjacent living room for a speaker dock. He finds a sleek, black one and sets it on the counter before plugging his phone in. Satisfied, he presses play. 

_Hey, don't write yourself off yet_  
_It’s only in your head you feel left out or looked down on_  
_Just try your best, try everything you can_  
_And don’t you worry what they tell themselves when you’re away_

Adam glances up, surprised to hear Jimmy Eat World as Ronan’s choice. He’s even more surprised to see Ronan so into it— air drumming, head banging, switching to air guitar when he deems fit. Ronan suddenly looks straight at Adam, a smile to accompany the taunt in his eyes. 

“What? You don’t like this one?”

“I thought we were making cupcakes.”

Eyes narrowed, Ronan drops his arms. He doesn’t have to say anything for Adam to feel his petulance. But even when they start preparing the batter, Ronan still taps wooden spoons to the beat. The song ends and the next immediately starts to play. Ronan lets out a whoop just after the first notes. 

_Dirty babe_  
_You see these shackles_  
_Baby I’m your slave_  
_I’ll let you whip me if I misbehave_  
_It’s just that no one makes me feel this way_

Adam feels a presence close to his side, looks over to catch Ronan mid-body roll, lip syncing the last line. He raises his eyebrows, impressed at the litheness of Ronan’s body. It’s like watching a knife suddenly move like water. Reveling in the attention, Ronan begins to shuffle his feet along the tiles, body movements sinuous and smooth. Adam scoffs in disbelief: Ronan Lynch actually knows how to dance. 

“Where did you learn that?”

“Matthew went through a phase. Used to pull us all into it. Says the girls can’t get enough.”

Ronan suddenly drops into a squat, pointing his arms up towards Adam.

_VIP_  
_Go ahead, be gone with it_  
_Drinks on me_  
_Go ahead, be gone with it_

Adam flushes and shakes his head, refusing to take part. He doesn’t know how to dance, didn’t grow up with ethereal angels. Ronan pops back up and delivers a series of mock punches to Adam’s upper body. 

“Come on, Parrish. You know I usually hate this stuff. We’re baking _**cupcakes**_ for fuck’s sake. No one’s going to give a shit if you don’t have rhythm or can’t hit notes.”

“I can sing just fine.”

Ronan stops mid-punch. His eyes darken with mischief as he crowds Adam in. _Shit shit shit shit shit_ , Adam thinks. They both know what has to happen next. Adam doesn’t dare move, while Ronan’s grin is dangerously acidic. 

“Prove it.”

Ronan lingers, making sure Adam knows it was a dare. He backs away ever so slowly, going back to the abandoned mixing bowls. With the battle already waged, the air is lighter. Every time Adam looks over, he catches Ronan still doing body rolls, and every time their eyes meet, Ronan switches to enthusiastic singing instead of humming. And every time, Adam laughs. 

By the time they put all three pans full of batter in the oven, Adam’s feeling very bold. 

_The next song_ , he thinks. _Screw you, Lynch. I’ll sing the entire next song._

As Ronan shuts the oven, he turns to lean back against the counter to wait for the next song. Across the kitchen, Adam mirrors his stance. Within seconds, the song is recognizable. 

“YES.” Ronan fist pumps. He points at Adam. “You have to do this one.”

Adam shakes his head in disbelief, covering his face with both hands. Ronan can still see his smile peeking out from the edges. 

_I hopped off the plane at LAX with a dream on my cart again_  
_Welcome to the land of fame excess, whoa_  
_Am I gonna fit in?_

When Adam lowers his hands, he sees Ronan with his arms crossed, smug and expectant. Adam grips the edge of the counter behind him, elbows bent. He rocks forward onto the balls of his feet, not feeling as bold as he thought. Taking a deep breath, he catches the third verse.

_My tummy’s turnin and I’m feeling kind of homesick_  
_Too much pressure and I’m nervous_  
_That’s when the taxi man turns on the radio_  
_And the Jay-Z song was on_  
_And the Jay-Z song was on_  
_And the Jay-Z song was on_

His voice comes out fluid and steady, hitting the high note with ease. Adam holds eye contact with Ronan as he sings the whole verse, but he can’t tell what the other is thinking. 

But then Ronan’s grinning and joining in for the chorus and Adam’s matching his grin and the music starts to build. Head bobbing turns into full out theatrics, both boys in the center of the kitchen, closer to each other.

Their singing turns into a competition as to who can be the loudest, which means they end up practically shouting the lyrics before the dream speaker somehow overtakes them both. Adam tries to fully absorb the moment, tries to convince himself that this is real, that he’s here in Ronan’s kitchen singing to Miley Cyrus. 

Somewhere between belting the lyrics and doubling over in fits of laughter, they tire quickly. Ronan slides down to the floor with Adam following soon after, breathless and buzzing against the cabinets. 

He looks over at Ronan, following what’s visible of his tattoo to his jawline. _Sharp sharp sharp_ , Adam thinks. Ronan’s already looking back at Adam, remnants of laughter in the set of his mouth.

Adam’s gaze flickers down, for the quickest of seconds, but Ronan notices. Even with the speaker adjusting to the quieter atmosphere, Adam almost misses the sound of Ronan’s sharp inhale, too short to be a gasp. 

Adam wonders if being the Greywaren gives Ronan superpowers, if he can hear his pulse working double-time. Ronan sets a hand above Adam’s knee. Okay, _**now**_ his pulse is working double-time. He’s breathing so hard and nothing has even happened yet, but he thinks he’s leaned in because suddenly Ronan is a lot closer than before and the urge to feel his bottom lip between Adam’s own is enticingly overwhelming. 

Adam tilts his head, leaning in to close the gap, but the cabinet knob is in the way and knocks against his temple, an involuntary exclamation of hurt escaping Adam’s mouth. Instinctively, he rubs the spot and glares at the knob before turning back to Ronan. Instant blush. 

Ronan snorts, delight in his eyes. He shakes his head once before grabbing Adam’s chin, tilting it up before meeting him halfway. It’s clumsy, more of a bump than anything. Adam hadn’t even had time to recover from his embarrassment, but he supposes that’s exactly what Ronan was hoping for. 

Ronan pulls back, but Adam isn’t done. He chases after Ronan before they’ve really even separated. Ronan smiles against his lips, and Adam insistently leans further to try again, slower this time. It works better, so they try it again. And again, and again, and again.


End file.
